Mage/Steampunk Roleplay- Alliances

[Lord Hayati]

(that steampunk town- abandoned building)

Inspecting the shop, Krisseh muttered to herself.
"this would be a perfect setup to-

she was cut off.

"Excuse me... would you happen to know where Town hall is from here?"

She turned around, expecting a crazy person. What she found was a perfectly normal person with a cleaning pack. Her Jelliness shined a bit, but not too much.

"Yeah, I happened to come from there. I can lead you there, if you want."

She gave a small bow. This was totally not her style, but she was caught off guard. Better to look weak, rather than strong and vulnerable. She brushed a bit of dust that got on her dress and hat. The dust on herself would have to wait a little bit.

[Jina]

Outside the Mayor's Office
Emily kicked at Barrett's foot, which was enough to make him let go. He was about to try and grab her again, when he started to smell burning flesh, and noticed Emily's hand.

Okay, so she's insane. I'll have to capture her wait for her to calm down if I want her on my side.

Barrett saw the air start to move around Emily's pipe. The mage is trying to get rid of her weapon. That's useful, at least. He leaped at Emily and tried to grab on to her, hoping to drag her off the tank or at least distract her long enough for her to lose her weapon.

[Strife]

(Note: To help move things along on our side, Ikkin and I did this part together on AIM. She'll post her perspective next.)

"Hey, sorry about that, Sir..." the woman on the rooftop shouted.

Blacktail jerked his head upwards the moment he heard her apologize. "No problem," he replied, raising his voice just high enough for her to hear.

The spectacle with the rat had attracted the attention of nearby civilians, and if there's one thing that made Blacktail feel uncomfortable, it was, above all else, crowds. He looked awkwardly to the left, then to the right, before returning his gaze to the rooftop. He took several steps towards the building order to get himself out of the center of the street.

"Would you mind coming down from there?" he continued.

"I was kind of hoping to stay out of sight, but..." She glanced around at the crowd before taking a flying leap off the roof, landing right beside him.

"I'm sorry, but... do I know you from somewhere?"

"I was hoping to ask you the same thing," said Blacktail, removing his helmet and cradling it under his right arm. "I am Blacktail, smith of Dunburrow, Indigo Knight of the Guard."

He scratched his chin. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but were you a member of the Color Guard at some point?"

"I'm Ikkin," she declared, "and I used to have the same title that you have now. I was the former Indigo Knight. If I remember right, there was a bit of confusion about that when you joined, right?"

The other Indigo Knight... The memory of the little mishap came to him like a tidal wave.

"Yes, I think I remember," he responded, eyeing the ground for a moment before locking eyes with her. "There was a bit of a miscoloration on the day of recruitment. You were feeling a little blue that day, weren't you?"

He gave Ikkin a toothy grin, but continued before she would have a chance to smack him for the bad punnage. "Anyway, it's great to meet you again, Ikkin. I don't believe we've been properly acquainted since that day."

"If you keep making puns like that, I'll think I might have been better off that way." She smirked. "Anyway, what brings a knight like you to a place like this? Come to think of it... how did you even get in?"

"Erm... I believe we should try and shake off some of the attention focused on us first." Blacktail motioned towards the mass of people on the other side of the street. "Let's just walk this way and pretend like nothing spectacular has occured."

Blacktail started moving along the sidewalk away from the crowd, and Ikkin followed him.

"Ah, so I'm guessing you snuck your way in, too," she said with a grin. "Don't worry, I don't think there are any guards back there."

Blacktail was about to make a remark about tempting fate, when suddenly, Ikkin paused her movements, catching something out of the corner of her eye. Blacktail looked in her direction, and just as he feared, there they were - three Brassport guards, staring directly at them.

"On the other hand... there seems to be one over here. Run!"

Blacktail did a double take between the nearby guards and Ikkin, the latter of which was getting ready to dart off in the opposite direction.

"Wait a minute!" Blacktail spurted hastily. "If we just act casual..."

"You there!" shouted one of the guards, marching towards their location. Two more of the uniformed officers followed behind him.

"Me?" asked Blacktail, a pinch of nervousness in his voice.

"Yes, you two," the guard continued. "You're not from around here, are you? Let's see your visitation permits."

"Oh... Well, if you insist..." Blacktail pretended to rummage through the spaces in his armor.

Suddenly, he jolted upwards and pointed his finger into the far distance behind the guards. "Look out!"

All three guards turned around and quickly sidestepped out of the road. Oddly enough, nothing happened. When the guards returned to the middle of the street and looked around, they saw no sign of Blacktail or Ikkin.

[Deleted]

The mad woman screamed and shrieked so loud a banshee would’ve been jealous. The flesh of her hand tore away in strips as she dropped the pipe, some of it clinging, melted and stuck to the burning metal. Emily clutched at her hand and sank to her knees, thick tears rolling down her cheeks as realization dawned. Her attempt had failed, her Lady was gone, and there was no hope left for her. That hard truth hurt more than her ruined hand and the weight of the militiaman pouncing on her combined.

Two more members of the city’s militia rounded the corner, drawn by the noise, and proceeded to help their comrade in subduing the crazy woman, though that was hardly necessary. She went willingly when they began to drag her away, without a word, but her gaze bored up at the Dragon mage with dejected, but intense hatred. She had lost, but her defeat had not tempered her desperation.

From the shadows of the buildings and the dark alleyways, teems of tiny rats began to scurry off, all heading in the same direction. Each and every one of them followed the militia and their captive, racing ahead to slowly enclose them in a circle of tiny teeth and sharp claws, so that by the time the militiamen realized, there was already no escape.

Thousands of rats swarmed up onto the street and over the legs of the city’s soldiers. They clambered up to gnaw and bite at their ears and their eyes until the two men broke away and ran as fast as they could, hundreds of rats still clinging to their bodies.

Emily, however, was left untouched. Being a rejected thing of the city, one makes some strange friends. Odd contacts and bizarre alliances sprouted like mushrooms as the weak and despised gathered together in solidarity. Emily only thought she could understand the rats, but they certainly understood her.

And it wasn’t just the rats either. Word had spread throughout the city that the maid of one of Brassport’s top engineers had taken up the cause of revenge, and who could blame her? Who could fail to sympathize with her? Especially since the object of her hatred had torn their city asunder. Who would stand in her way, or who would refuse to stand with her when the poor maid stood alone?

They came. From the sewers and the derelict buildings. From the coves and the shuttered homes. They came in their multitudes, men, women and children.

They assembled.

[icon]

"Yeah, I happened to come from there. I can lead you there, if you want."

Eli nodded. "That would be appreciated, thank you. The name's Eli." He looked over the character that stood before him. She appeared to be upper class, based on her clothes, but apart from that he really couldn't tell what she was supposed to be. She looked almost translucent, made of some see-through material...

Peering around the old store front, Eli looked around at nothing in particular. "You just mentioned something about setting up this old shop into something. If I may be so curious, what are you planning on making this rundown shack into, miss... gosh, I don't even know you're name yet."

[Lord Hayati]

"Krisseh. I Rule the Jelly Kingdom. I came here with my friends, just to make sure everything went okay. But, seeing the way this town is... I thought I could help by opening a restaurant here. Shall I lead you to town hall, now? ^_^

She slightly wobbled as she headed to the door. The dust made her cough a little, but it wasn't much.

[Deleted]

Somewhere in the infirmary, there was a chair. It was a simple wooden chair, cut from several trees and put together by the skilled hands of a carpenter. That done, it had been painted white, and a blue cushion had been attached to the seat.

This chair was one of multiple of its kind. They had been donated to the mages' guild after one mage saved the carpenter's workshop from a rampaging werewolf. Of course, they hadn't saved the carpenter himself, but he didn't seem to mind his newfound condition. It helped sales, even.

Since then, it was used in the infirmary by healers, nurses and visitors alike. Even patients had occasionally used it.

If the chair had a mind of its own, it would have noticed what was going on. It would have realised that when the dragon-man turned and ran towards it, this was not because he planned on sitting down.

Instead, he picked it up. With some difficulty, he heaved it over one shoulder, and ran back to the entrance of the infirmary.

--

Okay, seriously. What was up with the wait? Locke was beginning to wonder if the crazy fire lady was planning something with the angry dragon-man.

And then came the flying chair. It happened so fast that he didn't have time to dodge.

--

"Out of the way!"

With only those words, the dragon-man had pushed past Aly in his dash towards the entrance. And with surprising speed and lack of effort for an injured man, he had thrown the chair.

Through the flames, he could see Locke. The other shapeshifter had been hit so hard, he'd been knocked down. The chair had also broken apart, leaving bits of wood littering the ground.

Locke groaned as he rolled to the side, then pushed himself to his feet with his massive claws. "You're brave, dragon-man!"

"You shouldn't be here," the black-scaled one snarled. "Get out."

"I'm already out."

"You know exactly what I mean." He turned to Aly. "I won't stop you if you want to fight him. But I'm drawing the line..."

He pointed to the ground.

"...at fighting here."

With that, he stepped out of the way.

--

Locke chuckled. "What? Draco stupidus is trying to help me?"

"Shut up!"

"Just, y'know. She's got range. Without it she'd be a Pyro-kabob right now. You just told her to walk into danger. You sure that's smart?"

There was a pause.

[Jina]

Outside the Mayor's Office
Wait... what? But how did... Oh, great. This is getting ridiculous. Owen looked approaching crowd. Okay, I've got to do something, here.

He jumped up on the tank, and turned to the middle of the crowd. "Hey guys, what's up? Is there a parade I wasn't told about or something?" He paused for a second, then pretended to remember something and turned to Celestial. "Oh yeah! Celestial, this is... the entire city, by the looks of it. Everyone, this is Celestial, the Archmage of the Mage's guild. Apparently she blew some stuff of ours up a little while ago, but she was possessed at the time, so we can forgive her, right?"

((Why did it take me so long to do this post? >.>))

[Deleted]

Feather beds were lovely and warm, especially when you’ve been sick for months and have yet to lie down in one. They were so inviting, and caused the occupant a deep sense of peace and forgetfulness, inviting them to sleep soundly and making them rather unwilling to wake. Sarinon had been fighting her illness for such a lng time, since before the great war against the petrifying ozze that devastated the land. She hadn’t been able to do much at all before then.

When Oscar pulled her from the wreckage of the airship and they had gone to stay with the Sheeple, she had felt so much more alive, freer. She had more energy and the fevers only came once or twice. But then came the decision to move back towards Brassport, and her health had begun to fail again. Her sight, partially restored by some unknown force, became steadily darkened s they moved south.

She hid it well from the Comrades, and even better from Oscar, but she was not very strong to begin with, and her sickness had claimed her in the end. Now she woke slowly, reluctantly. She didn’t bother to open her eyes, she knew they would be near-blind once more. Instead she lay still and listened.

“I’m sorry I ignored you.”

The voice of Mr. Featherstone, Gentleman Adventurer. So he was here with her. For some unknown reason, this made her feel reassured, somehow safer, but she was too groggy to contemplate why that was the case. Instead, she listened for the reply. There was one, but she couldn’t hear what was said. All she gleaned was that it was an unfamiliar female voice. Oscar’s voice sounded again, closer this time.

“She needed help. I couldn’t just ignore her ... How long has she slept for now?”

So he was worried … he actually cared. He was there at her bedside, cliché though it may be. Lady Sarinon chose that moment to open her eyes and move slightly. Her whole body ached and she still felt slightly feverish. “North,” she whispered.

“My lady,” came Oscar’s voice, full of a mixture of concern and relief that even his debonair attitude couldn’t hide. “How do you feel?”

“North …” she breathed weakly.

***

Sordana’s Dictionary, the foremost authority on everything that is overlooked by dictionaries and encyclopedias, holds that a mob does not become angry until it takes possession of torches, farming implements, and other assorted improvised weapons of a medieval nature. It was fortunate, then, that the downcast and lowly citizens of Brassport had such resources in large quantities. The only thing they lacked was pitchforks and torches, and thus they were not, by definition, and angry mob.

The Mayor might have thought differently, but he was brave enough to step up, brave enough to confront the slightly-put-out-mob, and that took courage. They liked courage. They did not, however, like mages, and there were no exceptions to this rule. Something checked their advance, though, and every face turned to the sky where a golden figure was souring just overhead. The angelic and was one that a few Brassortians had seen before, and this meant that they became rather confused.

Those that knew of the angel told the others, and the mass-intellect of the Mob was stumped. Their hatred of mages had clashed with their love of courage and justice, because this was certainly a mage, but he had done well by the city, or at least they knew he had tried to help defend them. So was he a mage, or did he have courage, because he certainly couldn’t be both. That was not conceivable to the Mobmind.

They waited for a leader to be their voice. They waited for orders like the army they were.

***

Sarinon was alive and in Brassport and that was all the information he had. Sarn had been flying all night to get to her. He felt her weakness growing and he knew he could help her, so when he came to spot the annoyed mob, it came as rather a surprise. He hovered over the scene for a short while before he became aware that there were perhaps two hundred faces staring up at him.

"Time to high-tail it," he thought, and quickly sped away, doing his best to locate his sister.

[icon]

"Krisseh. I Rule the Jelly Kingdom. I came here with my friends, just to make sure everything went okay. But, seeing the way this town is... I thought I could help by opening a restaurant here. Shall I lead you to town hall, now? ^_^

Eli nodded. "Yes, that would be greatly appreciated, Krisseh." He started to head out the door, letting her exit first. He had absolutely no idea which direction he was supposed to go from here. The streets were usually filled with the bustle of city life. Some event must have been going on... and the best place for an event would have to be the Town Hall!

He waited for Krisseh to show him which direction to go impatiently. "So, you're from the Jelly Kingdom? Never heard of the place. Sounds interesting, though."

[Lord Hayati]

"So, you're from the Jelly Kingdom? Never heard of the place. Sounds interesting, though."

Krisseh nodded as she dashed to the Town hall, hearing yells of a mod being formed.

"It is quite interesting. A few problems happen at times, but I don't let them eat as me. x3 Pun intended."

She suddenly stopped as she reached the mob.

"... Oh dear. this could be a problem. Looks like they still hate us after what happened last time... And I wasn't even involved. Lets hope it ends out well."

-x-

A random Steampunk citizen pelts a few apples at Celestial.

"Demonic mage! get your Kind away from this town! if not, we shall bomb you with our Steampunk bombs! We have steampunk bombs, right? RIGHT?!"

[Draco]

It all happened so fast. Before she could stop her the woman she had been helping had run off. Leena let out a deep sigh. Unsure what was going to happen she rushed outside. It took a few minutes before she was able to rise into the air on her bike, and began to look around for any sign of Emily. When she finally found her, there were mobs everywhere. Steering away from the crowd, she rode as fast as she could.

---
((Gil's Shop))

Gil and Toshiro sat in chairs in the work room. They were having a experiment, and they were currently in the observation stage. Every few minutes they would toss a few pieces of food to the ground, and wait. Moments later, a rat would come out and take the food. When this happened, they would take notes. The notes were simple ones. Size, fur color, clothes, type of weaponry, and it's entrance and exit....

"Toshiro... These rats seem to be special. That last one had a coat like mine and a grappling hook."

Toshiro nods his head in response, "And did you see how he lowered in from the ceiling light, and then was pulled back up."

Gil nods his head in response as well, "I think I saw one with a sword earlier..."

The door bursts open, and the two turn their heads to see a panting Leena.

"Leena! What's wrong?" Gil stands up to run over to his assistant.

"Mobs.Riots.Dragon Lady.Emily..."

Gil places a hand on Leena's shoulder, "Leena, you're not making sense. Breath and speak slower."

She catches her breath, "I've been helping Lady Sarinon's maid Emily for a while now. I was visiting her and told her that the dragon lady-"

"Celestial." Toshiro says quickly.

"Celestial then... I was telling her how Celestial is visiting the city, and she went mad. I mean she was all ready a little mad, but now she's really gone mad. There are riots in the streets, and she's at the center!"

Gil walks Leena over to a chair and sits her down. He looks at Toshiro and nods. Then walks over to his desk and takes out what looks to be a odd looking revolver, and then to a large object hidden under a sheet.

Toshiro gets in a small air vehicle that Gil has been using recently, and moves it out of the way of the shop's airstrip. By the time it's out of the way Gil is removing the sheet from the larger object.

A new ship rests under the sheet. A two seater, pilot in the front and co-pilot behind. The frame is thin, with wings folded up on the sides. Gil and Toshiro hop in.

"Leena, watch the shop. We're going out to scope out the riots, and maybe see if we can put a stop to it."

He sticks the revolver into a small hole, twists it, and fires. Seconds later the vehicle begins to shake, and after a few levers pulled, the wings turn and spread out. Steam begins to shoot out from pipes on the back, and the plane flies out into the city.

Leena sighs, and falls asleep at the desk.

[Tiger]

“I’m sorry I ignored you.”

Tiger glanced up at Featherstone, removing her head from her arm, where she had been resting it as she looked out the window. Her expression was rather brooding, though in the shadows of her hood, it was impossible to actually tell.

"It's all right," she said with a slight shrug, turning her gaze back to the window.

And the funny thing was, Tiger was partially all right with being ignored. The part of her that insisted on being annoyingly critical and sometimes -well, all right, often- honest, kept reminding the mage that she could theoretically use her powers to heal Lady Sarinon at any time. It wouldn't neccesarily leave the woman more energetic than the combination of medicine and fever and feather bed, but it would probably do her a great deal of good to be cleansed of the illness while she slept.

Yet, every time the words came to Tiger's lips, the offer to use her powers to help...she hesitated. Not everyone trusted mages, and since they'd entered this "Brassport", Tiger hadn't felt one tingle of magic, hadn't seen any device that operated by supernatural methods. If Featherstone was a native to this city, which Tiger suspected, he might harbor the same fear and distrust of magic- and by proxy, mages- as the people he lived with.

And any time she tried to shove those worries away, in came the reminder that she had kept quiet all this time- what would people think of that? Certainly not that she was a responsible mage who held other people's well-being in high-regard.

All in all, it left Tiger in a rather bitter mood.

“She needed help. I couldn’t just ignore her ... How long has she slept for now?”

"I understand," the deformed mage said, glancing up from the window again. "As for how long..."

Before she could offer a guess, a whisper reached Tiger's triangular ears; only with a great deal of effort did she restrain them from pricking to better hear the faint sound.

"North." So the Lady at last awakened. Tiger felt a wash of relief; the medicines had worked well enough, at least for the time being.

"At least for the time being?" she thought, frowning slightly. "Am I preparing for an attack? Gods, I've spent far too long fighting off bandits if that's my instinctive worry."

She shook her head slightly, to shake off the bad mood like a cat shaking off water. It didn't entirely work, but her head felt a little clearer.

As Tiger took a few steps toward Featherstone and the Lady's bed, she heard Sarinon whisper "North" once again. Cocking her head slightly, the mage asked, "What's North? What's there that's so important, I mean?" The question was addressed to the debonair adventurer as much as it was to the ill woman; she strongly suspected Sarinon and Featherstone's bond went far deeper than anything that had yet been stated plainly.

[Celestial]

((Long overdue post. Sorry.))

((Brassport))

The militiaman made a grab for the woman but for some reason he stopped. It didn't matter. Celestial focused on getting the pipe away from her. When she finally did, the scream the woman gave out as she dropped the pipe could make paint peel. The dragon mage saw the damage that was done to the woman's hand and, with a pang of guilt in her heart, felt like hopping down from her rooftop and helping ease the pain. Though, knowing the woman, she wouldn't be allowed.

The militiamen held her down but the woman didn't seem to notice as she cried. Celestial wished she could do something, not sit here helpless like a damsel in distress but it was useless. The girl rose as she was taken away and gave the dragon mage such a look that her spine was chilled but she gave no indication of how rattled she was by it.

Suddenly, rats swarmed out and attacked the militiamen. They bit and clawed at them until the girl was free as they ran from here, a moving carpet of little furry bodies. Celestial watched this in horror before instinct kicked in and her wings began moving quickly, catching the currents and hovering above the rooftop.

It wasn't just rats. A mob had assembled. All of them focusing their hatred on her.This was going to get messy. She didn't want it to get messy. But if all else failed, she'd have to ask the knights for help.

Somebody clambered up onto the tank. To Celestial's relief, it was the Mayor. He'd come to defuse the situation, hopefully. He made a rather funny remark at the crowd, which Celestial smiled at, although it wasn't a very amused smile. Rather it was the smile of a man who had just remembered a joke before he's about to be eaten by a tiger.

"Oh yeah! Celestial, this is... the entire city, by the looks of it. Everyone, this is Celestial, the Archmage of the Mage's guild. Apparently she blew some stuff of ours up a little while ago, but she was possessed at the time, so we can forgive her, right?" the Mayor said, addressing both her and the city. The dragon mage gave a curt bow, feeling a few rotten apples pass over her head as she did.

But she got an idea.

"Please, all I ask is your forgiveness. Last I came here, however hard it is to believe, I was not myself. Beneath us lurks a thing called the Underdeep and it was the one responsible for all the chaos three months ago. I'm sure you don't believe me. You probably won't believe that us mages are kind, decent people too. But I can show you. I'm looking for volunteers from this city to come back with us to Mage Manor and see for themselves what an alliance would bring. Should anything happen to those volunteers, you can hold me personally responsible. But if they come back with good reports then perhaps we can work something out, no?" she asked the mob, looking at them with kind sincerity that couldn't be faked.

"Any volunteers?"

[icon]

Eli breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the Town Hall rise up in front of him, which he quickly retracted when he saw a foreboding figure on top of a large tank. When Brassport was being repaired, he had heard talk of a "Dragon Mage", and judging from the mob of citizens this was most likely her. Nervously, he turned back to Krisseh and tried to talk with her a bit more.

"... Oh dear. this could be a problem. Looks like they still hate us after what happened last time... And I wasn't even involved. Lets hope it ends out well."

Eli stopped walking abruptly. "Wait one moment... what do you mean by 'us'?" He looked at Krisseh. "You mean to tell me you're one of those mage people?"